


Don't Tell Stiles.

by whyamIalwaysLoislane (Whyamialwaysloislane)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Always a girl! Stiles, Derek is one hundred percent done., F/M, Fem!Stiles - Freeform, Mates, Scott hides Stiles from the pack, Stiles finds the pack herself., Stiles is not thick, scott is a puppy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-30
Updated: 2014-03-30
Packaged: 2018-01-17 15:04:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1392085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whyamialwaysloislane/pseuds/whyamIalwaysLoislane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Scott met Stiles it was a perfect moment in time. They were destined. To be bros. So when he got bit by crazy alpha, he kept that quiet. So two years down the wolfy road Scott had perfected the art of keeping Stiles out of his Werewolf life. He showered thoroughly after being in her presence, had made Allison double pinky promise never to involve her no matter the circumstances. The pack plus Stiles were none the wiser.<br/>Of course he'd slipped up occasionally.<br/>He'd worked so hard to keep her out of it. Only for stiles to screw it all up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Tell Stiles.

**Author's Note:**

> So this what happens when I'm bored at work.  
> Yup.  
> Plot credit goes to Fallingfromdisgrace.
> 
> Thank you to Pheonyx to pointing out my slip up with the Camaro :D

When Scott met Stiles it was a perfect moment in time. They were destined. To be bros. So when he got bit by crazy alpha, he kept that quiet. So two years down the wolfy road Scott had perfected the art of keeping Stiles out of his Werewolf life. He showered thoroughly after being in her presence, had made Allison double pinkie promise never to involve her no matter the circumstances. The pack plus Stiles were none the wiser. Of course he'd slipped up occasionally. He'd been on the phone to Allison, alone in his house, or so he thought.

"Yeah, yeah, okay. Right, we'll I'll be with Stiles. Yeah sure."

"What the hell is a Stiles?" Isaac asked, appearing from behind him with Erica who plucked an apple from the fruit bowl and took a bite. Erica Reyes, notorious fruit thief.

"Err it's just a code word between me and Allison, Stiles is so we don't get caught." Scott blabbed. Proud of his on the spot thinking. "So whenever you disappear in our times of need, you're doing a Stiles?" Erica asked tossing Isaac the apple. Doing a Stiles. Scott cringed at the thought but he coughed and agreed.

He'd worked so hard to keep her out of it.

Only for stiles to screw it all up.

 

* * *

 

Stiles was lent on the bar of the club, sipping her beer that Danny bought her before copping off with, was it Ethan?? Aiden?? Stiles couldn't really remember. Lydia was dancing between Jackson and the other twin of the guy Danny got off with. Stiles scoffed and rolled her eyes. She felt a presence behind her and looked over. The guy who stood there was an Adonis. She shits you not. Six foot three of pure muscle and sex. Rough stubble lining his chin, highlighting a jawline that could make butter (and Stiles) melt. His eyes were a pale green and the dude’s eyebrows had their own atmosphere. Stiles bit her lip has her eyes raked down the leather and skin tight jeans, eyes faltering on the crotch bulge and shooting back up when he coughed.

"Before you ogle my junk, at least let me buy you a drink." He said over the pulsing music, voice doing things to Stiles that would have Scott blushing like a nun in a brothel. "Derek." He smiled sitting down.

"Stttt..." Stiles started, haltering when the bar tender, who she'd shown a fake ID to before, with her name as Stephanie, because Stiles Stilinski is pretty memorable and it's not like anyone would serve the sheriffs underage kid. "Stephanie, you can call me Steph." She grinned at Derek who didn't appear to have noticed her slip up.

"What are you drinking Steph?" He asked, sliding a note to the bartender and nodding, "gin and tonic and whatever the lady wants."

He called her a lady. Fuck her. No, seriously, Derek fuck her.

She coughed herself back to focus and turned to the bartender.

"Jack Daniels and Coke, please." She smiled and, she squinted to see the dudes name tag, and Jeff, fucking hell, went to work. She turned back to Derek, whose eyes snapped back up to her face from their position on her legs.

Lydia had dressed her tonight. She was wearing a short sleeved plaid dress that stopped mid-thigh and had what Lydia had referred to as a 'cute white Peter Pan collar', black knee high socks and platform black ankle boots. Her short hair spiked more than usual and heavy eyeliner, all Lydia's doing as well. She had a cropped leather jacket hanging on the back of her chair.

She looked pretty bad-ass if she did say so herself.

Derek smiled across at her. It seemed genuine, not creepy like that Peter guy who'd hit on her minutes before and her fabulous gay 'boyfriend' had swooped in and save her, hastily whispering he was leaving in her ear. She rolled her eyes at the memory.

"Do you mind me asking," Derek began, "how old are you?" Stiles beamed.

"I'm eighteen, like I'm not lying, I am Legit eighteen." She laughed, as Derek deflated in relief.

"Thank god. I already associate with too many under 18 year olds ..." Derek mumbled, turning to take the drinks off Jeff. He passed Stiles hers and she took a gulp.

Derek laughed at her face after the alcohol burnt down her throat.

 

* * *

 

 

 

Stiles brought the shot up to her lips and, well, after... After how many shots she'd had, you'd think it'd lose the burn. Nope. Russian water still hated her guts. Derek looked the same. Stiles was done with alcohol, her system buzzing. Lydia had already left with Jackson and Aiden (Aiden was the straight twin), she'd come to check on Stiles and made Derek swear an oath that he wouldn't harm Stiles or else. Derek looked legit scared as he pressed his hand to his heart and swore. Lydia feeling content with scaring had flounced away all strawberry blonde hair, pastels and wedges.

"Wanna get out of here?" Stiles shouted over the music and Derek's eyes lit up. If Stiles got lucky tonight, tomorrow wouldn't consist of a walk of shame. Bitch it'd be a walk of awesome.

"Yeah, my cars outside." He took her hand, and led her through the sweaty bodies and into the cool air.

"So which is your super doper hot alpha male car?" She asked, laughing until she saw the car Derek was walking to. It might have been more gorgeous than Derek.

It was a sleek black Chevy Camaro. Stiles wanted to sex the car never mind it's hot as life driver.

"Can I sex your car?" Stiles whispered, hand stroking up the bonnet and to the door and clasping the handle with pure arousal. Derek almost choked, his eyes following her hands and up to her lips which where parted in awe. He said nothing and slipped in. Stiles followed and melted into the leather seats, sweaty legs sticking to the material but she did not have the mind to give a single fuck.

"Back to mine?" Derek asked, question suggesting location and the promise of sex. Derek was making sure she was up for this. She nodded and leaned over, kissing him. He didn't kiss back at first, startled but when Stiles arms wrapped around his neck pulling him across to her.

Stiles thanked her lucky stars Lydia had bought her new lingerie. Black **_lacy_** lingerie. Lydia meant business.

He grazed her teeth over his bottom lip, his hand coming up to hold her back as they kissed. Stiles pulled back first.

"Your place." She said firmly, Derek almost slammed the car into drive. Stiles giggled and began fiddling with the music setting, hitching the volume up so she could sing. Her nerves wouldn't settle every part of her on alert. They pulled up outside a two story house and Derek parked on the drive.

Stiles knew whereabouts she was they weren't far from the Station, or where Scott lived. Derek climbed out the car and opened the door for her. Mother Fucking Gentleman. Stiles climbed out and followed Derek inside. There wasn’t much of a living room, it was mainly a flat screen TV and pile of assorted cushions.

“So, is that your bed?” She asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"I do have a bedroom its upstairs.” He smirked back at her, shedding his jacket, arm out for Stiles’. She handed him hers and watched him hang it on the coat rack.

“Do you mind if I use your bathroom?” Stiles asked.

“Sure, no problem. It’s upstairs across from the room with the black door, which is mine. Perks of designing the house.” He smiled. Stiles made a note to bring that up, when she didn’t need to pee.

She began up the stairs and nipped into the bathroom. Pressing her back against the door, she fell quiet and waited until she heard Derek climb the stairs and step into his room. She quickly used the toilet and stripped off her dress, folding it and hanging it on the towel rack.

“Come on Stilinski. You can do this.” She whispered to herself before slipping out of the bathroom and knocking on Derek’s bedroom door.

“Steph?” Derek’s voice radiated through the door. Jesus. Just his voice was a turn on. If he kept talking, she might have come there and then. She didn’t want to even know what his voice would do if it ever said her name. She pushed the door open and raised an eyebrow leaning against the frame. Derek was sprawled across the bed, Henley on the back of a chair, he shot up when he saw her and she walked over to the bed. Climbing up the bed, Stiles straddled Derek. “You’re beautiful.” Derek growled, he actually fucking growled. She smirked before being flipped onto her back.

“Fuck.” She whispered.

 

* * *

 

 

Waking up in a king size bed, with a minimal headache, that post-orgasm buzz and Derek’s arms keeping her pressed to his chest as if she might disappear in the night, was the best way to wake up ever. Stiles declared it as she adjusted herself, so she could look at Derek. He looked peaceful sleeping, just happy it was nice. She stayed, looking at Derek until her stomach let out a vicious growl.

Wiggling out of Derek’s grasp, she pulled on her black shorts and Derek’s grey long sleeved Henley off the chair and walked in the general direction of a kitchen. She slipped her iPod from her jacket and plugged in her headphones, music and coffee was what she needed. She found the coffee pot and began brewing a fresh pot, shaking her hips as she went. She’d got through the first few dance moves of Love on Top, when a pair of arms wrapped around her waist. Derek’s chin nuzzled into her neck.

“You weren’t supposed to wake up, dude. I was making you coffee.” She whined, pressing a kiss to his temple. “I didn’t want you to think I’d left.”

“Without your dress? You’re bold Steph, but not that bold.” He chuckled into her neck. A pang of guilt flashed across her face.

“About that dude… I need to change that. My name isn’t Steph, that’s what my fake ID says.” A look of panic flashed across Derek’s face. “No I am eighteen bro! I wouldn’t lie about that. But my name isn’t Steph. It’s –”

“STILES?” Scott exclaimed from the kitchen door, he was holding a bacon bagel and wearing a horrified expression. Stiles looked back to Derek.

“That one. I’m Stiles, Stiles Stilinski.” She thrust her hand at Derek, whose expression was thoroughly confused. It dawned on Stiles that SCOTT was standing in Derek’s house, with a BAGEL. “Wait, what the frick frack?” Stiles asked, eyes flicking from Scott to Derek. Derek looked to Scott with a look of pure confusion and then turned back to Stiles. 

 

* * *

 

 

 

"Give me a minute, Stiles.” Derek lent over and kissed Stiles’ cheek, to let her know he wasn’t mad at her. As soon as she’d said Stilinski, he understood. Even with a fake ID the name Stiles Stilinski would get her recognized in Beacon Hills, as the Sheriff’s daughter.

He walked over to Scott, who he gripped by the scruff of the neck and dragged into the next room. Scott sniffed at Derek, obviously smelling Stiles all over him. Not even Talia would have been able to tell apart Stiles and Derek by scent this morning, both being completely drenched in the other. Scott probably only clocked on when they’d left Stiles in the kitchen.

“Spill.” Derek snapped, looking straight at Scott.

“Fine. Right, I and Stiles have been best friends since we were like three and she punched this kid who was trying to steal my juice box and stole it for herself, and dared her via me to lick the swing set. But when Peter bit me, I didn’t want to get Stiles in danger so I kept her in the dark. I made Allison Double pinkie promise and had successfully kept her out of this.” Scott explained, exhaling at the end.

“Well, we might have a problem with that.” Derek snapped.

“What? Why?” Scott whined.

“A mate problem.” Derek snarled.

“A… WHAT?!” Scott exclaimed.

“Stiles is my mate. It only dawned on me halfway through last night.” Derek rubbed the back of his neck.

“Last night… you slept with her?” Scott’s jaw dropped.

“Yes.” Derek snapped, pacing until Scott’s fist connected with his jaw.

“Scott. Jesus Christ. Staph.” Stiles was suddenly in between them, holding a growling Derek back.

“Calm down Sour Wolf.”

Derek stopped immediately. So did Scott. “What? Scott did you seriously think I was that thick? Who did you think put that article about Lycanthropy in your locker? I figured it out before you jackass.” Stiles put a hand on her hip.

“I thought it was Derek…” Scott whimpered. “You were being all Alpha yoda...”

“You’ve seen me with google man.” Derek replied, hands gently on Stiles’ hips. “Sour wolf?”

“Hale, let me guess?” Stiles smiled.

“How’d you know?” Derek asked.

"Scott needs a passcode on his phone.” Stiles replied, letting Derek pull her closer. “Don’t worry Scotty I forgive you. Now you two need to introduce me too the rest of the pack.”

 

* * *

 

 

Stiles was lying with her feet up on Derek’s lap, she was wearing one his shirts and denim washed out short, toes wiggling in his face.

“I’m trying to sleep here.” Derek grumbled under his breath.

“Tough. Your mate wants a foot rub.” Scott scoffed from his position, beside Allison. Stiles had integrated into the pack perfectly, bringing Lydia, Danny, their twins, who happened to be wolves. Was anyone not a werewolf in Beacon Hills? Derek now had himself a nice little pack; however he still had feet in his face.

Derek had a feeling that wasn’t going to change.

"Wait? So what is doing a Stiles, actually?" Isaac asked. Scott almost chocked on his root beer.

"What?" Stiles asked, looking up from her cushion.

"Basically it was a fake codename for mine and Scott's relationship." Allison explained, clapping Scott on the back. 

They all fell quiet again, turning back to the angry action film on.

"So what doing a stiles then?" Isaac pouted.

"Derek's Job." Stiles said, and Derek shot awake. "Oh good your up." She wiggled her feet in his face again and smiled.

Derek sighed.

Heaven Help Him.


End file.
